


Smile

by magicites



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicites/pseuds/magicites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John fell in love with Karkat's smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile

**Author's Note:**

> aaah so recently I read Bananaramses fic [Drama Queen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/289354/chapters/461979) and I got hit right in the OTP. Oh man, if you haven't checked it out yet, you really should. They are an amazing person who writes amazing fics about dramatic boys. It's wonderful and it inspired me to write this, which was...probably not a good thing, heheh.
> 
> My biggest inspiration for this was one word: smile! 0u0

If there's one thing John's used to, it's smiles.. He’s used to gigantic, buck-toothed beams, sarcastic smirks, small twitches of the lip, mad grins, and mischievous, lopsided smiles. He’s used to his own smile, tugging all the way up to his ears.

What he isn’t used to is Karkat’s constant scowl. It’s a downright ugly thing, weighing his entire body down; bright, energetic eyes dulled to a lifeless gray speckled with red, his shoulders drawn into tense, defensive lines. He moves as if the moment he relaxes the sky will fall down onto him and reduce him to nothing. The entirety of Karkat Vantas is a heavily guarded fortress, and his biggest barrier is the nasty expression frozen onto his face.

Obviously, the best course of action is to break down that first line of defense, and make him smile. John knows that Karkat is a cornucopia of insecurities and self-loathing, but he’s sure that one smile can make it a little better,. All he needs is a little bit of help.

He tries asking the others, seeing if they have any decent strategies to make him smile, or even better, laugh. Most are at a complete loss, but Gamzee suggests giving him a game to play, Sollux suggests showing him John’s half-assed attempts at coding, because, “the only person more terrible at coding than KK is you,” and Dave suggests Will Smith.

Sollux is stupid, so what does he know, Dave is lame and Karkat would probably hate human Will Smith and say that Troll Will Smith is so much better, so he goes with Gamzee’s suggestion.

John realizes no clue as to what kind of games Karkat likes, so when he goes to the nearest game store he grabs every single game with romantic elements in it he can find. He looks up reviews for each and every one, eventually settling on a Harvest Moon game that boasts at least a dozen romantic interests. He buys it, and hopes with all of his heart that he hasn't wasted twenty dollars on nothing.

He goes home and covers the small case in a thick layer of some old wrapping paper Dad has lying around. It’s light blue and drowning in penguins wearing gray scarves, something practically made for Karkat. It's a little silly and John can't help but reminisce about Christmases past full of large presents and tacky wrapping paper, but it works. He sticks a silver bow on it for good measure, and doodles a small crab right next to his name. Then, he realizes the crab looks absolutely shitty, so he scrawls an equally messy apology for the terrible drawing.

With that done, he hops into his car and drives over to Karkat’s house: a drab, gloomy little place standing out in the middle of a cheery neighborhood. He walks up to the door, trying not to focus on how much effort is put into front yard, only for all of the plants to keep wilting away. All of the weeds are bludgeoned to death by garden tools, leaving nothing but limp fibers and torn stalks, but it must be Karkat’s sour attitude that makes them die. He carefully steps over a sad, wilting lily, and pushes a small button by the door.

John isn’t at all surprised when Gamzee opens the door, glances down at the gift in his hand, and grins. His smile is an infectious one, lazily spreading over his face and soon affecting John. “Karbro’s gonna love it so much,” he says, letting John inside.

The inside is a little more lively than the outside of their house, but just as drab. Entire walls are covered in bright, colorful murals, only to be cut in half by thick swaths of the same gray paint. Pie tins and various knick-knacks litter the floor, no doubt left by the half of the moirallegiance that answered the door.

Gamzee leads John to the door to Karkat’s room, and stares at the large sign demanding that anyone who wants to come in better knock, if they don’t want to have their small intestine dragged up and out of their mouth. “Gross.” John laughs to himself as he knocks on the old, splintering wood.

“The sign is finally doing its job and reminding you to knock? Holy fucking shit, what did I deserve to gain this meager show of respect? Or are you doing this just so you can ask me to take you out to that hideously disgusting weird bullshit store you love so much? If so, the answer is fuck off, I’m busy.”

John can’t help but frown. Karkat must not get visitors often, if he acts like that! “Hey, Karkat? It’s me, John. I have something for you.”

Heavy footsteps slam down on the wooden floor, echoing out into the hall John stands in. Karkat wrenches open the door so hard it almost comes off its hinges, and John stares in bewilderment down at the angry troll, who glares straight back.

“And what the fuck could you possibly have for me, besides one of your old, terrible movies? I hate to inform you - wait, no, I take that back, I am _glad_ to inform you, that if it came out before 2000 and it is not specifically titled The Princess Bride, I don’t want to watch it.” He grumbles. John finds himself focusing on the strange way Karkat’s mouth forms such familiar words. It stretches just a little too wide, and snaps just a little too quickly. It's fascinating.

“Nah dude, I got you a game,” John responds, holding out the small package. Karkat’s eyebrows lift up in shock, and for a single second, the weight of the universe has lifted off his shoulders, leaving behind a fragile boy. John can't look away. He can't even blink.

“You do realize that my wriggling day isn’t for several more months, even going by your inferior human calendar, right?”

John shrugs. “I was at the store anyways and I had some extra money, so I thought you might like it.”

Karkat clearly doesn’t buy his lie, but that doesn’t stop him from inspecting the package. He sees the small drawing and its necessary apology note, and his face softens into fond amusement. Not quite a smile, but it’s so, so close. John can see the edges of his lips fighting to break free of their frustrated prison.

“The crab isn’t nearly as ugly as I thought it would be. It’s better than anything I could fucking attempt,” Karkat says, now taking care to open his gift. He growls in annoyance at the discovery of more than one layer of wrapping paper, and after only a few moments he of searching for the tape holding it together Karkat gives up and slices it right down the middle. He purposefully misses the drawing. John can’t help but grin, both at that and his reaction.

Karkat turns the case over, and his eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of the game cover. He freezes in place, and John wants to touch him, brush his fingers against stony skin and bring this boy back to life, but he only holds his hands under Karkat's and waits for his grip to falter. It never does.

Karkat finally blinks, and looks at John, expression open and almost innocent. “This…isn’t some kind of prank, right?”

“Hey, if you don’t like it, I can take it back.”

“No!” Karkat hugs it tight to his chest, cheeks puffing up like he’s some kind of gray chipmunk. “God, I just…” He look back down at the game, then up at John, breaking into a giant smile, every single one of his teeth sticking out of pink gums like a dentist’s worst nightmare.

John doesn’t know why he’s staring. He doesn’t know why his heart is suddenly pounding against his ribcage, trying to escape his chest, or why his brain decided to short out.

He thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he's fallen in love.

“I fucking love this series, but I haven’t had the money to buy the newest game thanks to certain assholes with a penchant for scrawling on the walls. Thank you, John,” Karkat whispers the last words, a million emotions hiding within. John feels like he’s going to melt into a pile of mushy, sappy goo.

Karkat doesn’t stop smiling. John feels himself smiling back, despite the fact that he never consciously made the effort to. His heart races happily, adrenaline and pure affection coursing through his body. He's afraid that, if he doesn't get away that very moment, he'd explode. He makes no effort to move. If he dies on the spot, then at least the others could say that he's died happily.

From that moment on, John decides that his biggest goal in life is to make Karkat smile as often as possible. He starts inviting Karkat out everywhere, taking him all over town. They go anywhere that John suspects has the slightest chance of being fun. They go to the bowling alley, the movie theater, fancy restaurants, not so fancy restaurants, even small, hole in the wall stores full of weird shit that neither of them have ever seen before. Very few of them are actually interesting, but it works well enough.

It doesn’t take long at all for John to grow even closer to Karkat, and fall even deeper in love. Each night, he goes to sleep with a small grin, replaying the time they spent together in his head. Karkat takes up most of his thoughts, and dominates his dreams. He learns everything he can about the troll, memorizing even the smallest details, down to even what parts of his claws come out crooked whenever he trims them.

The days turn to weeks, and somehow, Gamzee begins to tag along. He doesn't really mind him, as Gamzee strangely makes a nice addition to their small group. Karkat becomes happier and happier as the days blend into each other, until the insults are tinted over with fondness and the tense lines that once kept others out have melted away to a relaxed slouch that invites John in.

It takes an entire year for John to work up the courage to confess. When he does, Gamzee's number is the first one he punches in. He knows that there are others more eager to help, but Jade can only do so much and he suspects that Dave wouldn't be much help at all.

It takes almost a full minute for the troll to pick up, but he eventually does. “What’s up, my wicked hammerfriend? Got a favor you need to call in?”

“Actually, yeah, I do. Is it alright with you if I steal Karkat away for the day? It’s kind of important,” John explains, hoping that Gamzee doesn’t catch on to the meaning underneath. He’s been careful to make sure neither of them found out until the time was right. Today’s the day, but the last thing he wants is Gamzee going and telling his moirail before John has a chance to.

“Something important?” Gamzee echoes, confused. Good. Stay confused.

“Yeah, but it’s a secret. I can’t tell you. Sorry.” It’s something a five year old would say, but John just hopes it’ll work.

“Oh, well as long as you don’t hurt my palebro I’m down with it. Have fun, man, he’s all yours. I think I’ll go chill with some of my fine sisters or brothers,” Gamzee muses. John thanks him and hangs up. He can feel himself getting nauseous from the nerves rolling around his stomach, but he ignores it.

He’s so jittery and scared that on the way to pick up Karkat, he almost crashes his car twice. At one point, a horn honks at him, and he nearly swerves into a curb and totals his car. He manages to avoid it just in time. His dad would not be proud. Still, by some miraculous stroke of luck he manages to get to his destination without wrecking anything.

John goes up to the door and hesitates, letting his finger hover over the doorbell. He’s scared, so scared, of being rejected, but he knows that even his own stupid feelings couldn’t ruin such a close friendship. Even if Karkat says no (which he might not, because there have been signs that point to yes, like the smiles reserved specifically for him, or the way Karkat perks up at his voice like an excited little dog hearing it's name for the first time, or the fierce protectiveness he’s developed over him), they’ll still be best friends.

Karkat actually opens the door before John has the chance to ring, and he grins nervously. “Oh, hey there, Karkat.”

Karkat gives him a bemused look. “And exactly how long have you been standing outside my door, staring down at my doorbell like a complete and total fucking idiot?”

“Not too long.” John says, and it’s vague enough for it not to feel like a lie. “Now, let’s get going.”

“Where are we going to? Gamzee didn’t tell me.” Karkat grumbles.

“It’s a surprise, dude.”

He takes Karkat to his favorite café, a remote place located in the middle of an empty business district. It’s incredibly small, and even during the lunch rush, it’s practically empty. That’s probably why he likes it so much.

Karkat orders the café special, essentially a fancy grilled cheese sandwich with ham, while John orders the first thing on the menu. It turns out to be a chicken sandwich. He picks at it the entire time, knowing that if he eats it, he’s just going to barf it up all over Karkat, and that would be a terrible way to start off a confession.

“Are you going to sit there and eviscerate that innocent sandwich, or are you actually going to eat it?” Karkat asks, snapping John out of his thoughts.

John laughs nervously. “Oh, hehe, it’s just that I’ve been thinking.”

“Congratulations for achieving this special feat.”

“I’m not nearly as much an idiot as you make me out to be, dude.”

“Really now? Exhibit A for the case of, ‘One John Egbert Is The Stupidest Creature to Exist,’ the time my tv stopped working and you suggested hitting it with a shoe until it started again,” he says, smirking.

“What about the time I spilled ketchup all over myself and you had a panic attack because you thought it was blood?” John asks, grinning.

“It looks a lot like fucking blood, okay!?”

“Yeah, but it smells like ketchup.”

“Fuck you! How about the time you spent three days cooped up inside your house playing that ridiculous Ghostbusters game?”

“Hey. No. Do not insult the Ghostbusters or I will cross the streams directly through your face.” Both John and Karkat are snickering, trying their best to keep their laughter choked down. It is an effort made in vain, when Karkat chokes on his own tongue and nearly screams, gulping down air like he’s a dying fish, making John burst into laughter.

“Looks like I have something new to add to the list! The time Karkat choked on his own tongue. Boy, I bet everyone can’t wait to hear that one!”

Karkat growls, fighting to keep his smile down. He reaches across the table, grabs John’s sandwich, and flings it right into his face. It hits with a light smack, and falls right back down to the plate. A bit of mayonnaise smears onto John's glasses.

There is a brief moment of silence, and John uses that time to wonder how in the hell he fell in love with someone so completely and utterly ridiculous. But then Karkat bursts into the loudest, most obnoxious laughter he’s ever heard, hiccupping and snorting so hard it’s as if he’ll go comatose any second.

John starts laughing at how stupid Karkat sounds, which only makes Karkat laugh harder until they’re both just laughing at each other’s laughter.

John feels like he’s just going to burst with happiness. There’s no one else in the world he can be like this around but Karkat, and he knows it’s the same for the troll. They’re best friends, co-palhonchos, and hell, maybe they could even be boyfriendleaders. He just has to take a chance and find out.

He leans across the table while Karkat’s still laughing, and gently presses his lips against Karkat’s. The world freezes up, and Karkat’s laughter gets cut off in a small, breathless gasp.

John waits. He waits for Karkat to kiss back, for this tenseness that came back after being gone for so long to melt away again, but that doesn’t happen. It's like kissing a statue as it dries, his lips an imprint of instant regret that will never leave. After a few seconds, John pulls back, unable to look at anything but the floor.

Karkat sputters, desperately clawing for words. He settles for making some sort of exasperated sound, like all of the joy rushing out of his body in a single breath. Out of the corner of John's eye, he can see him shaking, ready to crumble in on himself.

“…I’m sorry.” John mutters. “I thought you might have felt the same. Guess not,” he adds, laughing awkwardly. It’s not the same as before.

“How long?” Karkat asks.

“What?”

“How long have you had feelings for me, dipshit? Because that obviously wasn’t a platonic kiss.”

“One year today,” John answers quietly, finally gaining the courage to look at Karkat again. He looks disgusted, though John’s not entirely sure if he’s disgusted because of the kiss, or disgusted because he never caught onto his feelings. He glances down to see small grooves clawed into the wood from his claws.

“Wow. Holy shit.” Karkat mutters, getting up from his chair. One of his claws snaps, embedded in the table, but he doesn't seem to notice. “I have to go. I can’t deal with this bullshit right now.”

“Wait!” John protests. “Don’t you need a ri-“ He’s cut off by the slam of the café door, the small greeting bell falling from its place and crashing onto the floor. It shatters instantly. “Guess not…”

He stares blankly at the door before remembering that he's not a seven year old getting rejected by their first crush, nor is he a walking cliché in some terrible romantic movie. Karkat probably just needs time for this to sink in. He’ll come around in no time at all!

So John waits.

He waits until the end of the day, and when there’s no phone call, text, or im from Karkat, he thinks that he may need more time.

He waits until the end of the week, and hopes that maybe this was just too unexpected for Karkat, and that he’ll come around eventually.

He waits until the end of the month, and surprises himself by getting out of bed each day. He starts leaving texts and ims, asking if he’s okay, if anything happened.

It only takes a few days for him to send messages asking for forgiveness. When those don’t get answered, John gives up, and calls Gamzee instead.

“Hey bro! I was all up and wondering when you would finally call me up,” Gamzee greets, jovial as ever. Does he even know?

Wait, no, that’s a stupid thought. Of course he knows; Karkat tells him everything.

“Gamzee, why isn’t Karkat talking to me anymore? I know he hasn’t dropped off the face of the Earth. Is he ignoring me?”

The other line goes quiet. John’s almost afraid that Gamzee hung up on him, but a few seconds later, Gamzee hesitantly replies. “I don’t know how much of this shit I should share with you, but Kar’s not that good with dealing with confessions and stuff. Lost out on my fine catsis that way. It’s been tearing him up that those flushed feelings you’ve been all up and stashing away from him exist, and that he just don’t have any in store for you. He cares about you a lot, but even mentioning your name sends him into all sorts of panic, and even if I wasn’t his moirail I wouldn’t want to see him like that all the time.”

John sincerely hopes that he’s just hearing Gamzee wrong. Their friendship can’t be ruined. They’re too close for that!

...Right?

“So…you’re saying that I shouldn’t try talking to him anymore?” John asks, trying to stay calm and levelheaded about this. Trying not to cry over the fact that he may have lost his best friend.

“Best be staying away, yeah. Stay safe, but away. I don’t even know what he’d do if he found out you went and buried yourself in the ground from this,” Gamzee advises. John hears muffled shouting come from Gamzee’s end of the phone. “Now sorry bro, but I got a moirail to take care of. Good luck.”

It’s not even that he’s heartbroken. He’s just numb, a feeling that spreads all over his body like cold ice. Nothing sounds better than disappearing from existence for a little while, but there’s one thing he needs to do first. He knows he shouldn’t, but it’s the last time he’ll talk to Karkat. Promise.

He opens up pesterchum, and sends a single message before throwing his phone into a drawer, unplugging his computer, and curling up in his bed.

EB: i must be the last person you want to talk to right now, but there’s something i need to tell you. i’m not even asking this as john egbert, the doofus in love. i’m asking this as john egbert, karkat vantas’s best friend.  
EB: even if i won’t be there to see it, i want you to never stop smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I mention that it's almost impossible for my to write happy John/Karkat? Because it is.
> 
> Oops!


End file.
